


Who Do You Love

by kingburu



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, High School, Romantic Comedy, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingburu/pseuds/kingburu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every good dictator needs to have one thing: a contingency plan. Taking over the world requires preparing for every repercussion and every consequence—which is why past dictators have failed. </p><p>Farkle Minkus does not fail. He’s a Minkus and he will be the Minkus that owns Earth, and then Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, Neptune, Uranus, Pluto, and eventually the entire Milkyway. Farkle Minkus is prepared for every possible disaster, every possible catastrophe that will try to deter him. </p><p>At least he thinks he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Do You Love

Every good dictator needs to have one thing: a contingency plan. Taking over the world requires preparing for every repercussion and every consequence—which is why past dictators have failed.

 

Farkle Minkus does not fail. He’s a Minkus and he will be the Minkus that owns Earth, and then Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, Neptune, Uranus, Pluto, and eventually the entire Milkyway. Farkle Minkus is prepared for every possible disaster, every possible catastrophe that will try to deter him.

 

At least he thinks he is.

*

 

The day starts out normal. Farkle has three days before school starts and has mapped out his last minute preparations for junior year. He’s read every book on the summer reading list for English, taken summer courses to skip Pre-Calculus and jump straight into Calculus AB, read every book from the library about Physics, and has sent a personal letter to every teacher he’ll have for the semester—even Mr. Matthews, who immediately responds with, _‘I know who you are, Farkle, but thank you for the virtual apple.’_

 

The year is going to be rough, but Farkle has been counting down going to school since the second half of July. His fingers are tingling.

 

Before he even opens his eyes, Farkle has made a checklist of things he needs to do: go over his annotations of the summer reading list for class, take the train at 11AM to meet Isadora for lunch in Long Island, come back by 5PM to pick Lucas and Zay up from the airport, and spend the rest of the afternoon actually _relaxing_ with his best friends.

 

When he does open his eyes, he’s already behind schedule.

 

Usually his mother wakes him up. Even when Farkle has to be up before the sun. She comes in, makeup perfect and wearing the latest fashion, and bribes him out of bed with an English breakfast. Mom preferred being a New York socialite in the arms of the CEO of Minkus International instead of working, but she prided herself on being a good stay-at-home mom and good chef.

 

(Lucas and Zay once slept over back in freshman year. The food was so good that they overindulged and left his house with matching guts.)

 

(Which...is on a _good_ day.)

 

Farkle knows it isn’t going to be a _good_ day if his mother doesn’t wake him up.

 

It means that his parents got into another argument, she stormed out, and she won’t be back until dinnertime. Mom and Dad will silently apologize to each other through meaningful looks and jewelry, and Farkle will have to pretend he didn’t notice they were fighting.  

 

He checks his alarm clock— _10AM_ —and curses to himself.

 

Getting out of bed, Farkle gets dressed, brushes his teeth, and stuffs his assigned reading into his backpack. The train ride to Isadora’s is two hours away. He can read on the train and annotate his books while having lunch with Isadora, but it’ll take a majority of his time. Farkle can only hope that he gets it out of the way before Lucas and Zay come into town.

 

His father is sitting at the table when Farkle walks into the kitchen.

 

“Dad,” he says, surprised. Reworking his mental checklist, Farkle heads straight toward refrigerator. “You’re still at home. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

 

His parents are as easy to read as a kindergarten book at this point. Dad goes to work and takes his anger out on his employees, Mom drinks at a high-end bar and finds a thousand ways to blame Dad for the situation.

 

Once, after a particularly heated fight, Farkle was called in by his father’s secretary to finish his father’s paper work after Dad had stormed out. Then, hours after that incident, he called all of his mother’s friends until one of them knew where she was. Farkle had to take the subway to pick up his mother because Dad was too stubborn to do it himself.

 

Post-argument is already happening like usual: Mom is gone. Farkle’s father should be too, but isn’t.

 

Stuart Minkus is almost always at work before Farkle is awake. Farkle hasn’t seen his father out of his suit since he was a little kid and sick.

 

But here Dad is, looking worse than Farkle has ever seen. Dad’s hair is matted to his face, oily and disgusting. His chin is covered in stubble. He hasn’t bothered to put in his contacts, and somehow his glasses have made the dark circles under his eyes worse. Dad’s night shirt is wrinkled and dirty, pants nowhere to be found and shoulders hunched. A mug of cold coffee sits beside him, while his work tablet is strewn across the table, untouched.

 

Dad looks at Farkle with hollow eyes, and Farkle feels a chill running up his neck.

 

There’s a silence. Dad’s lips press together in a firm line, and his hands start shaking around the coffee mug.

 

Farkle keeps his gaze on his father. He hesitates, before grabbing a banana and sitting down. His chest hurts—Dad’s never been this… _disheveled_ before.

 

“Hey, my little genius.” A small, painful smile curls against Dad’s lips, and his eyes look as fragile as glass.

 

“You haven’t called me that since I was little.” Farkle bites the inside of his mouth. His dad has (comically) treated him as an intellectual equal since he was old enough to walk. He _is_ a genius, after all. Neither of his parents have ever treated him less than an adult.

 

His quip doesn’t immediately get a response. Farkle’s heart starts pounding in his chest.

 

“Um,” Dad mumbles softly. He looks at the banana in Farkle’s hands for a moment and moves to the fridge. “You must be hungry. What’re you up for?”

 

He just _stands_ there, back turned to his son.

 

“I have to meet Smackle at the train station for lunch,” Farkle says. He immediately follows up with, “Mom’ll come back. She always does.”

 

His father’s shoulders tense.

 

“No, son.” Dad rubs his temples, demeanor twisting. “She left this morning. Before you—I—woke up.”  

 

Farkle freezes.

 

He _knows_ his parents. He _knows_ what they do—and they’ve done this thrice in the last month. Argue. Blow off steam. Reunite, reconcile.

 

“She’ll come back,” he insists, but his chest aches. “She always does. Mom goes out, thinks about what went wrong, you go to work, you deal with it, and then you two make up. You think I don’t hear you fight or make up, but I do.”

 

Slowly, Dad turns around. He sucks in a deep breath, and it feels like he’s taking Farkle’s life with it.  “You’re smart, Farkle, but it’s not happening this time.”

 

“Where did she go?” Farkle’s eyebrows furrow together.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“What do you _mean_ you don’t know?” Farkle stands up and raises his voice. Dad winces.

 

A thousand words dance around in his father’s eyes, but none of them make it to his mouth. Dad doesn’t look like the CEO of Minkus International. He looks as scared as Farkle feels. Like at any moment, he’s going to crumble—and for a brief moment, Farkle finds himself fearing adulthood. Being _scared_ like his father isn’t something he wants to grow up to be.

 

Dad opens his mouth, but quickly closes it. He raises his shoulders, closing off the inkling of fear that Farkle can see, and reaches for his wallet on the countertop. “It’s best that you aren’t running late, son. I’ll give you some money.”

 

“Dad.” Farkle’s hands curl together. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

 

“I have to get ready for work,” Dad says instead. “Be home for dinner.”

 

“Will Mom be home?”

 

“I have to get ready for work, son,” Dad repeats. He slips his son a hundred dollar bill. “Just be home—”

 

“Zay and Lucas are coming back today. They’re sleeping over.” Farkle stands a little taller to feel less useless. “Does Mom remember?”

 

Dad’s lips press back together. He stares at Farkle for a moment, unreadable, and places another hundred in Farkle’s hand. Then he changes the subject. “You’re going to be late to see Isadora, son.”

 

“Dad—”

 

His father pats him over the shoulders. Then—Dad pulls him into a hug, long and tender.

 

Farkle’s voice dies in his throat. His shoulders wilt, and his knees buckle.

 

“I’ll figure something out,” Dad whispers. He kisses Farkle gently on the forehead, pats him softly on the back, and leaves.

 

All the while, Farkle tries his hardest not to cry.

 

*

 

Farkle almost misses the train.

 

He doesn’t do his schoolwork on the way to Einstein Academy. For the first time ever, Farkle Minkus is sick to his stomach at the thought of doing schoolwork. Manhattan passes by in a blur in the window and every breath he takes keeps him from vomiting.

 

His parents have always fought. Throughout most of middle school, Mom threw her wedding ring at Dad’s head on a weekly basis. Farkle never thought much of it because they made up later.

 

When the possibility that he had autism came up, they put their differences aside. Having Asperger’s Syndrome wouldn’t have changed him in the slightest—it simply would’ve put a name to his identity, and Farkle _knew_ his parents wouldn’t treat him differently. But he was scared and they comforted him. Both of them.

 

Worrying about him seemed to remind them that they loved each other.

 

Then a few months later, Mom announced she was pregnant, and Shay was born shortly before Farkle started high school.

 

Mom _and_ Shay were gone before Farkle’d woken up. Before he left, he checked every room for his little brother and mother—even the pantry and linen closet—but neither were in sight.

 

There was always the option of calling his mom and asking where she was, but Farkle doesn’t know what he’ll do if she doesn’t pick up. He’s afraid she won’t.

 

Thusly, he spends the train ride trying to find a solution to the problem. He can’t very well take over the world if something like _this_ knocks him down. Instead of researching for school, he researches for life.

 

Forty to fifty percent of married couples are divorced in the United States. Subsequent marriages for a divorcee are even more likely to fail. If fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, it means that the success of a marriage is easily measurable with the flip of a coin.

 

Which makes no sense to Farkle.

 

A married couple has a 50-50 chance in working out. Two individuals have a 50-50 chance of going on a date. Fifty percent of the possibility relies on a “Yes.” The other fifty percent of the possibility is a “No.”

 

External factors must be taken into account. How long have the two individuals known each other? What is the chemistry between them? How do two individuals—two humans—react in their natural environment, and how does that relate to their decision?

 

What are the subjects exposed to in the environment that requires them to respond simply with a Yes or a No?

 

If the subject concludes with a positive answer (a _yes_ ) in the first round of experimentation (a first date), would it be likely to answer yes again in the second round? Yes, if the date has gone well.

 

And if the first round of experiments and second round of experiments went well, then the two subjects in question would likely answer _yes_ , a third round, a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth—until the penultimate round.

 

Hypothesis: A lover will reply _yes_ to the question, _“Will You Marry Me?”_ if the lover has said _yes_ in every other round. In every date.

 

“True,” Farkle mutters to himself. He cradles his mother’s engagement ring gingerly in his hand. His father had left it on the kitchen table without a care.

 

 _Hypothesis #2:_ If the probability of saying “yes” exceeds the probability of saying “no,” two lovers will, in fact, proceed with the marriage. Nothing shall come between them, “Till Death Do [Them] Part.”

 

Unless external factors affect the test subject.

 

The probability of saying yes to a date is equal to the probability of saying no to a date. The probability of saying _yes_ to a second date is higher if the first date is a success. The probability of marriage is high if the positive aspects of the relationship outweigh the negative aspects.

 

Yet the possibility of a marriage surviving is, at maximum, fifty percent.

 

Survival is dependent on external factors. Even the survival of a marriage is dependent on external factors. For humans: jobs, friends, family. Organisms will make their decision based on what they are exposed to in their environment.

 

“Is it me?” Farkle’s eyebrows furrow together. As his own test subject, he must also adapt to survive to his surroundings.

 

His parents tried hard not to argue around him and Shay. They stifle any disagreement and made up in secret—yet Farkle was never there to witness it. To change the environment for the better.  

 

He could’ve _helped_ , but he never did.

 

The closest he ever came to the problem was assuring his father that Mom would come back. He was focused on his schoolwork and his friends, and his family last—even if he loved them.

 

Shay is only two.

 

Farkle is a genius, and yet he can’t keep his family together.

 

“Conclusion?” he whispers to himself. “I want to vomit.”

 

 

*

 

Isadora is there to meet him at the train station. She’s as beautiful and poignant as ever with her long hair and her plastic-rimmed glasses. Her lips are straight, stature tense, and Farkle realizes she looks both upset and relieved.

 

“I had no idea you had such a wild side,” she says. “I was worried when I didn’t receive a message from you this morning, but I decided to come to the train station anyway. And here you are. You’re a very daring person, Farkle Minkus.”

 

Farkle smiles weakly at his girlfriend and grips his backpack tightly. “Sorry, Smackle. It’s been a really busy morning.”

 

His throat feels like a giant knot. Farkle wants to do nothing but scream—and at the same time, he wants to go back to sleep and wake up from this stupid nightmare.

 

“School _is_ starting in three days.” Isadora’s eyebrows furrow together and her lips curl into a petite frown. “Though I’m appalled. You should organize your schedule and utilize your time.”

 

“Yeah,” Farkle agrees. Maybe if he utilized his time, he would’ve seen his parents’ separation coming. He shoves his parents’ problem to the back of his mind and looks down to his petite girlfriend.

 

“Forgive me,” Smackle says a moment later. Her nose wrinkles. “I know how much you cherish your… _public education._ ”

 

“I cherish our time together, too.” Farkle reaches out and touches her hand. “I promise I’ll be organized next time we see each other.”

 

Smackle stares at Farkle’s hand reluctantly before looping their fingers together. Her shoulders slacken, and she nods. “I would like that.”

 

Hearing that mends Farkle’s heart, if only a bit.

 

There was a time where holding hands terrified the both of them. Smackle made sure to voice when she was nervous, and it let Farkle admit when he was nervous too. Zay assured him that the jittery butterflies came with the honeymoon stage. Now—two years into their relationship, holding hands with Isadora is as simple as breathing.

 

 _Would that change?_ He thinks to himself. Is it _that_ easy to stop caring for each other? Was it possible that Isadora Smackle just isn’t…the right _test subject?_

 

Smackle had expressed interest in him previously and vice versa, but Farkle’s only exposure to women could only be summed up by Riley Matthews and Maya Hart. Which, up to this point, has only been resolved by the three of them being close friends.

 

Everything feels the same with Smackle, except now they’re dating. They knew each other on an intellectual level, and he isn’t nervous around her. Despite the two hour train ride, Farkle is always excited to come visit his girlfriend. But even seeing her right now can’t take his mind off of his worries.

 

At some point, Farkle _has_ to tell Smackle about his parents.

 

He swallows the bitter taste in his mouth and focuses on Smackle instead.

 

Next to Vanessa and Zay, Farkle was first in their friend group to be in a relationship. Maya and Lucas dated other people briefly at different points in high school, but always returned to each other’s orbit. Riley didn’t seem to care about a boyfriend—even if she’d been asked out a few times.

 

“As usual, our schedules will have to rearrange with the approach of school,” Smackle says as they make their way out of the train station. “For example, my school activities will keep me busy Monday through Thursday. I have violin rehearsals on Fridays, tutoring sessions on Saturday, and of course, Sundays at Einstein Academy is reserved for parent days.”

 

“Sounds like you’ve got a busy schedule,” Farkle replies. His heart sinks. Part of his parents’ problems are the fact that his dad is so busy all the time.

 

“I’m free between 4:45 and 5:30 on Sundays.” Isadora nods. “I’m sure you’re just as busy as I am. What extracurricular activities have you decided to take this year?”

 

“I don’t know. I forgot my planner at home.”

 

Smackle pauses. She frowns. “That’s very impractical of you, Farkle. I would assume that—”

 

“Can we not talk about school right now?” Farkle cuts her off. He can see from the look in her eye that it leaves her disgruntled. “I just want to enjoy your company.”

 

“I—I suppose that’s doable.” Smackle wilts. She falls silent. Farkle has never seen her look more perplexed.

 

Farkle deflates. He’s sure that Smackle was looking forward to seeing him, but cutting into her enthusiasm has already ruined the mood of their lunch date. Squeezing her hand softly, he ushers Isadora to look at her. “How about I buy you coffee? And then lunch?”

 

A smile curls against Smackle’s lips, and things feel just a tad more normal. “That is also doable.”

 

“Good.” He smiles back—but somehow, feels worse.

 

*

 

Hanging out with Smackle ends up being shorter than what Farkle expected. Her mother calls and informs them that Isadora’s grandmother has dropped by for a surprised visit. Although annoyed, Smackle has no other choice than to please her parents. With their lunch date cut short, Smackle sees him off at the train station.

 

“You could always come with me,” she says, frowning. “My grandmother enjoys your company. I hate wasting your time like this.”

 

“No, I’m just glad that I could see you,” Farkle assures her. Though he’s annoyed that he took a two hour train ride only to spend forty-five minutes with his girlfriend. “Zay and Lucas come back from Texas today. I promised that I’d meet them at the airport.”

 

“I see.” She fails to hide the disappointment in her voice.

 

“You know you’re always welcome,” Farkle reminds her. He’s invited Isadora on several outings even before they started dating. Smackle’s answer usually depends on her current duties, but she can only handle a certain amount of social stimulation before it annoys her.

 

Her lips twist thoughtfully. “I would rather spend time with you any day.”

 

“Likewise.” Farkle’s heart is heavy in his chest. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and struggles to conjure a smile. “I had fun, Isadora.”

 

“Do you feel better?” Her question surprises him.

 

He can’t tell what his own face looks like, but a lump swells at the back of Farkle’s throat. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“I noticed at your arrival that you were…unwell.” Hesitant, Smackle’s eyebrows furrow together and she takes a step back. She repeats herself, brown eyes wide and curious. “Do you feel better?”

 

Farkle can’t think of what to say.

 

 _Tell her_ , his mind urges. Then almost instantly— _Don’t tell her._

“I’m glad that I got to see you.” It hurts to get the words out of his mouth.

 

Smackle examines him, like she’s reading the lines between a book. She moves forward—hugs him quickly—and pulls back before he can even blink. Red flushes in her cheeks and her gaze falls to the ground. “I look forward to our next outing and hope you feel better.”

 

“Thank you.” Farkle tries to smile, but it fails. He reaches out slowly. “May I kiss you?”

 

Isadora’s gaze remains on her own feet. But she nods shyly.

 

The last thing Farkle does before he leaves Long Island is kiss his girlfriend gently on the forehead. Now he just needs to get through the rest of his day.

 

*

 

His father texts him on the train ride back to Manhattan.

 

> **Genius, Sr.:** I left my card on the kitchen counter. Feel free to order whatever you and your friends want.

 

Still feeling overwhelmed from this morning, Farkle debates on how to respond. He wants to ask where his mother is, or why they argued in the first place—or why Dad didn’t go out of his way to _find_ Mom. Instead, he quickly scribbles an, _‘Okay_ ,’ and shoves his phone back into his front pocket.

 

Dad texts him back immediately.

 

> **Genius, Sr.:** I’ll be meeting with an attorney to discuss your mother. Don’t worry about things.

 

The knob on Farkle’s heart goes from ten to ten _thousand_ almost instantly, and his ears turn red with fury. How does his father have the audacity to meet with an attorney to discuss splitting _assets_ when his mother left only _hours_ ago?

> **Farkle M.:** What if Mom comes back?

 

How does his father have the nerve to discuss this so casually with his own son, and how dare he do it over the phone instead of face-to-face like—like a _coward?_

 

He grips his phone so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

 

Five minutes pass without a response. Then ten.

 

At fifteen minutes, Farkle stuffs the phone back in his pocket and stares out the window in hopes to calm his nerves.

 

It’s not until he rolls into Manhattan that Dad responds.

 

> **Genius, Sr.:** She’s not coming back.
> 
> **Genius Sr.:** I have to discuss repercussions of her departure with a professional. Please understand.

 

Farkle can’t muster an answer. He’s sick to his stomach.

 

The phone is still in his hand when he leaves the train. In a debate, Farkle would list off all the reasons why his father is wrong and highlight the solutions to their debacle. But he’s never won a debate with his father, and he’s afraid of being _wrong_ in this one.

 

His phone buzzes again. He’s about to hit the call button so he can reason with his dad, but realizes it’s someone else.

 

> **Princess Riley:** FARKLE! Lucas and Zay land in an hour! Are you ready??

 

Dad’s message upset him so much that Farkle forgot why he couldn’t stay in Long Island. It hits him that he has to meet with all of his friends in the sour mood that he’s in, and eventually, they’re going to _find out_ about his mom.

 

But he _can’t_ change his mind at the last minute. Lucas and Zay have been in Texas all summer, Riley spent the last two weeks in Philadelphia, and Maya’s been on the road with Mr. Hunter. It’s going to be the first time that they’re all back together, and Farkle is the only one bearing bad news.

 

Before he can think of a way to bail, Riley texts him again.

 

> **Princess Riley:** You have to come!!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** We can’t start junior year without seeing each other!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** Oh, and tell Smackle she can come too!

 

On the other hand—if he doesn’t come, Maya will kick down his door and Riley will make Lucas and Zay carry him to Topanga’s. A smile curls against Farkle’s lips and he laughs at the thought.

 

> **Farkle M.:** Smackle has to spend time with her grandmother. I’ll meet you there soon.
> 
> **Princess Riley:** I’m so excited!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** We’re going to have so much fun this year!!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** YAY!!!!

 

Hearing from Riley has always been like taking in a breath of fresh air. He exhales, not realizing that he was holding in said breath—and somehow, feels better.

 

She texts him again.

 

> **Princess Riley:** It’s going to be the best year ever!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** No disappearing and being a super genius!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** Promise?
> 
> **Farkle M.:** How can I take over the world if I’m not a super genius?

 

Again, Riley responds without missing a beat.

 

> **Princess Riley:** idk, have you considered an oligarchy?

 

Farkle snorts. His friends have always humored his aspirations to become a dictator. Even Smackle proposed several ways that he could take over the world, but Riley’s suggestion sticks with him. Before he can respond, he gets a message from Maya.

 

> **[Devil Emoji]:** Hurry up and get your ass over here, Farkle!

 

Of course they’re already together.

 

It doesn’t hit Farkle until now that he hasn’t moved since exiting the train. He looks at his watch and realizes—yes, he really _does_ only have an hour before it’s time to pick up the guys. Usually there’s nothing that irritates him more than running late on his own schedule, but it’s pretty minimal compared to everything else that’s happened today.

 

But he’s excited again. After all, his friends are all back in town and there are two more days until school starts.

 

He moves, feeling lighter on his feet.

 

“You can do this,” he says to himself when he finds the doors to the subway station. “This is a good thing.”

 

He can do this.

 

*

 

**Group Text: [Devil Emoji], Princess Riley**

> **Farkle M.:** Thanks, guys.
> 
> **Princess Riley:** Of course!!!
> 
> **Princess Riley:** For what? /:0

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The story takes place during their junior year of high school.   
> 2\. The GMW Twitter states that Farkle has siblings, though whether younger or older is unclear. I decided to make him much much younger.   
> 3\. Before the show started, Farkle’s original name was going to be Shamus Farkle, until it was decided that he was going to be Minkus’s son. Since Shamus is a throwaway name, I thought it would be appropriate to use it in a different way.   
> 4\. The title of the story is also the title of the song, “Who Do You Love” by Marianas Trench. If you want hints to where the story is going, then I’d recommend giving it a listen!


End file.
